


The Hunter's Wife

by Shertenchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 11:08:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1980669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shertenchester/pseuds/Shertenchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the boys leave to hunt demons, Dean's wife falls under the weight of her own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Collapse

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains a graphic description of self mutilation.  
> If you or someone you know is struggling with such issues, please do not hesitate to get help.

She hadn’t threatened it. She had made sure that the good parts of her were the only ones that showed when he was home. He’d gone through so much; from losing his mother to rejecting his brother to gain them back and lose them multiple times. The problem was that she had lost the ability to smile and her words wouldn’t come out clean. They’d stick in her mind and repeat and repeat and repeat and repeat until the echo was silenced by the breaking of her eardrums. She’d get out of bed in the middle of the night, feeling the air had abandoned her; that it had sprinted away from her. She’d go to the kitchen and cough while she fell to the floor. He’d never find her there, she made sure of it. She’d catch her breath and go back to bed.

But the truth was that she didn’t want to breathe. She didn’t want to be found there because she didn’t want to be found anywhere. And she knew he had been through all of that, and she wished that he’d never have to go through anything anymore and she knew that this was a terrible way to do it and yet the thought kept repeating and repeating and repeating and repeating and repeating and repeating. And she accepted it.

She wandered into their bathroom, making sure to avoid all mirrors. Her thumb ran its way along one of his razors roughly and slowly, drawing a small stream of blood and pain. Years ago, she would have smiled at the wince. Now, she scoffed. She had once told herself that she slit her wrists to feel something in the midst of apathy. She felt the pain, but her mind had found a way to scream regardless of outside pain.

She made sure to rinse his razor before she discarded it and drew out a blade hidden in a drawer. The glimpse of the light it collected attracted a path of silver light into her eye and she drew in a breath. She’d already decided that it was going to be a slow death. There would be no note. Every time she had tried to sit down and write something - anything - to Dean, she cringed and backed away. There was no way to explain to Dean what was going on. There was no explanation. There was no reason. There was just an end and a set decision to follow it out.

She drew the blade along her wrist, dragging it slowly to watch the skin part cleanly and the blood begin its stream. It was with quiet fascination that she let the blade run freely along her ivory skin. The lines were created in neat zig-zagging patterns up to her bicep. It wasn’t until her hand began to shake uncontrollably that she angrily drew a deep and quick dash along the other wrist, arching from the base of her hand up along her inner arm. 

The blood gushed from her arms as she fell to the floor and the blade clattered after catching her leg slightly. Her head lulled as her vision blurred and the pain began to take over everything else.

And in the distance, headlights approached the house and cast a spotlight over the front door. Two men sprinted inside, not caring to close the doors or grab extra weapons. The older of the two knew exactly where to go and followed the sound of gasping.

Tears blurred his vision though he violently attempted to brush them away. He knelt over her form, shaking her, yelling her name. The younger entered a moment later, stepping over her unconscious form and wrapping her in an old blanket. Dean looked up at Sam and then over at Cas who appeared in the doorway, out of breath. 

The three ran back to the Impala, the place they had learned to call home, Dean carrying his wife who approached death with a passionate speed. He sat in the back, holding her and calling her name. He noticed that her stream of tears mixed with blood was flowing again and he kissed her forehead. “I love you,” he whispered. “Stay with us. Please.” His voice cracked as he rocked her, pressing the towels a little harder against her deepest wounds. “Please.” 

She responded with a very slight downward twinge of her lips and an attempt to stretch her head upwards to look at him. She was more afraid than she had ever been; for the first time, she realized just how dark her mind had become and just how captive she was to it.


	2. The Longest Night

Shiva had been admitted twelve minutes after two in the morning. Dean had carried her into the emergency room, struggling as her body began to shake from the shock of losing blood. It had begun to flow easily through the soaked towels around her wrists and dripped from Dean’s arms, spreading in slow patterns like roots along his shirt. It was by luck that he hadn’t had to speak; a team of men and women rushed over immediately. Sam explained what had happened, a nurse nodded, and Shiva was off down the hallway on a gurney. 

Dean shuddered when she was taken from him. His skin felt chilled without the warmth of her. He attempted to assure himself that she was going to be okay and sat down in a chair closest to the hallway his wife had been taken down. Cas sat beside him silently while Sam retrieved a clipboard of medical papers that needed to be signed.

He exchanged a look with Cas before he sat across from them. Dean’s eyes were red and puffy; he hadn’t stopped crying although it was apparent he no longer cared or noticed it. His shoulders hung down and his hands, now covered in half-dried blood, shook so slightly than anyone not aware of the situation would not see his trembles. His shirt was soaked and clung to his body, making this trembling more apparent. 

“Dean,” Sam called softly. He swallowed, not having realized how weak his voice had become in the chaos of the night. “Dean, let me fill these out. Go home and change. They’re not going to let us see her for a while, anyway.”

Dean blinked. He reached out for the clipboard consumed by his brother’s hands. Sam clenched his jaw but gave over the papers anyway. It was a sad attempt to turn Dean away. He wiped away his tears halfheartedly, shifted, inhaled and began to fill out the information.

None of the three spoke. Dean walked up to the front desk once the papers were finished and came back to sit. His head ached worse than any hangover as he waited for news. 

At three, a young doctor approached the men. They followed her down the hallway a short while before she turned. “Mr. Winchester, Shiva will live. We need to keep her at least tonight, most likely overnight tomorrow as well. She lost quite a bit of blood and needs to gain that back. She most likely won’t wake until mid day to-“

“Can I stay?” Dean’s jaw clenched. He’d caught the signs. He knew Shiva had been unwell. There was no possibility of him leaving her now. How could he do that ever again?

“I don’t think that’s the best idea right now.” Her voice trailed off as Dean caught her eye. He was more than desperate. No one was sure what allowed him to stay the night; whether he looked sad enough or if it was of sheer compassion, but she nodded. 

“Thank you, Doctor,” Sam nodded and added a small smile and the three headed down the hallway to her room, number 119.

Dean paused outside the room, tilting his head to the side before he looked back at his little brother. Sam placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder and then looked over at Cas. Dean glanced back to Cas before he opened the door and walked over to his unconscious wife’s bed.

Shiva’s arms had been wiped clean. There was still a red tint to them and they were littered with stitches. She was attached to a heart monitor and to a machine to allow for blood transfusion. Her hair, dark and soft, laid somewhat frazzled along her slender neck, just reaching the tops of her shoulders. Her chest fell and rose in a steady rhythm, matching the sounds from a machine nearby. She was attached to many machines and was restrained to the bed.

Dean assumed his place, moving a chair closer to her bed and holding her hand. He adjusted her rings, remembering all the times she would sit beside him and twirl them in circles around her finger. Nothing bothered her more than the diamond in her engagement ring to face the inside of her hand. Sam and Castiel stood on her opposite side, Cas with his hand holding hers.

Dean stood slightly and bent over her, kissing her eyebrow. 

It didn’t take long before his tears flowed again. He broke down and hid his face in his hands. He hadn’t cried so hard in his life; nor had he been so confused as to why he was crying. He worried for her at all moments. He kept her photo in his breast pocket. He thought about her while the road stretched before him. He heard her voice in his dreams. He thought about her at times when Sam droned on about lore. In the end, he was relieved. She would live and they would figure out what to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I do have one more chapter drafted and should have it edited soon. Shiva holds a special place in my heart, don't worry.


	3. Inseparable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiva wakes up surrounded by the people who love her most.

Somehow, Sam and Cas had convinced Dean to head home and change. Sam stayed by Shiva while Cas drove Dean back to the bunker. He was glad to see that Dean fell asleep almost immediately after falling into the passenger seat, making a few extra trips around the street and cleaning the backseat before waking him.

 

 

 

Sam took Dean’s place by her bed and watched the machines before he looked down at his sister-in-law. He studied her sleeping form and then inspected her scars. He was surprised she had lived. He felt sick to his stomach at the thought of Dean unknowingly sharpening the blade his wife would later use to attempt suicide. Worse than that was the fact that, had the knife been dull or any less sharp than it was, she would have surely died. The drag would have torn her veins more. It would have mutilated tendons to an irreparable point.

Most of all, he was worried. There was no way Dean was going to leave her alone now. There was also no way he was going to take her on a job. That was how they had met her, and Dean had vowed never to allow a victim to go back into harm unless it was unavoidable. The only option plausible was to place her in an institution, which was also an issue. What would she say in counseling sessions?

He also worried about Dean. He knew he’d blame himself. He only prayed that it wouldn’t lead to an increase in his drinking. He’d cut down since meeting Shiva, but then only in her presence. Dean was a wreck. They were all wrecks. In some ways, the sanest one to Sam was Shiva. Things were going to change; that much he knew.

 

“Dean?” Dean awoke to the smell of ammonia and iron. It wasn’t a new smell, but it wasn’t one he enjoyed. He glanced back at the seat as everything flooded back to him. It was apparent only from the smell, but that was where he had sat the night before, holding his bleeding wife in his arms. There he had sat and tried to keep her awake.

“Dean.” Cas’s voice was deeper than usual. He had slept only four of the past forty-eight hours, and it was starting to show in the way his muscles fatigued and his eyes drooped.

Dean nodded and got out of the Impala, leaving the window rolled down behind him. Anything to get the smell out of the car would do; there was no threat of theft there. He stood and groaned as his back sent out a thousand tiny alarms all at once. It was all he could do to hold down vomit as he braced himself against the door. Cas caught his eye and then turned to enter the bunker.

“Cas, sleep. I’ll wake you up in a couple hours.” Dean headed up the stairs to his and Shiva’s bedroom, peeling his clothes off and tossing them into the bathtub. He turned on the cold water and let the clothes soak. There wasn’t much hope for them to be clean again, but it was something to keep his mind going.

The blood covering the floor had dried for the most part. It spread over the cabinets, sink,and floor and seemed to call to him as a ghost of the night before. The sun had just started to peak through the glossy window above the shower and Dean rubbed his temples.

About this time, he’d usually drink and try to sleep. Today, just the thought of alcohol repulsed him. 

He stepped into the shower and nearly began to doze again, groaning as the water slightly burned his skin. It gave him a kind of peace in the middle of this extreme madness.

 

 

 

Sam laid his head down, promising himself he’d wake up every half hour to check if Shiva had awaken. He knew there was no sense in staying awake. She was going to live. They all needed sleep. Even if she did wake up, he’d be close enough for her to tap his arm or at least within earshot of a whisper.

When he awoke four hours later, it was to Dean and Cas entering. Dean had gathered clothes and a blanket and pillow for Shiva. He’d also brought coffee along. Somehow, although Sam knew Cas had slept, he looked worse. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were swollen. The three had been hunting nonstop for what felt like months, although it had been just barely over one. Even compared to the days leading up to the apocalypse, this was too much. It had drained them.

“Has she woken up, yet?” Dean turned around, grabbing his coffee from Cas.

“Uh, no. No, she’s been out.” Sam looked up at the machines again. Her blood pressure was climbing slowly back to normal. She’d be waking up by mid-afternoon.

Dean set down everything in the extra chair and fished his keys out of his pocket, stretching them out to Sam. “Go home, Sammy. I’ll call you when she wakes up.”

Sam took the keys and looked at his watch. “I’ll be back at two. And Dean?” He squared his shoulders and made sure he had his brother’s attention. “She uh, she’s gonna be okay. You did well.”

Dean nodded and set down his coffee to hug Sam. Somehow, they had all made it through the night. This was the second thing to bring him peace. “Yea, I know.” He smiled gravely.

Sam smiled quickly back and then nodded to Cas before he looked back at Shiva. “I’ll see you all later.”

“Goodbye, Sam.” Cas caught his eye and nodded. Everything was going to work out somehow, even if it was a royal pain in the ass.

Dean moved enough stuff and motioned for Cas to bring up the other chair. They sat by her side and listened to her monitors for an hour before a nurse came in.

“You boys still here?” He closed the door behind himself and walked up to check the chart at the foot of the bed.

Dean and Cas stayed quiet. It was more of a statement than a question anyway. The only thing that made it sound inquisitive was the slight worry behind his voice. The two backed away a bit so that he could get through to check her IVs and administer some more medication.

“If you need anything, call out. We kept her close enough to the station.” Dean knew what that meant. She was on suicide watch. It only made sense. “She should wake up within the next hour. When she does,” he pointed to some buttons on a remote beside her bed. “make sure to adjust this so she’s sitting up more. Be careful with her. If she strains her arms in any way, even just trying to flex her fingers too quickly, she could pull a stitch.” 

“Yes, we have enough experience with this.” Cas grumbled up at him. It would have come out as a snap had he not been so exhausted.

The nurse shot him a confused look before going back to his work. He refreshed the IVs and discarded his gloves in a waste basket by the bed before heading out.

“Hey, uh thanks.” Dean called out. The nurse nodded to him and then exited. Dean glanced at Cas before he moved back closer to the bed. “It’s alright, Cas.”

Cas nodded back and sat back in the chair.

 

 

 

At half past one, Shiva stirred. Her head rocked from one side to the other and her hands twitched a little, alerting both Cas and Dean from their dozing states. Dean leaned forward as Cas glanced up at the monitors and back down to her.

She coughed lightly and opened her eyes which were red. Dean adjusted her bed, allowing her to sit up. “Hey.” He kissed her hand, his eyes watering.

She blinked roughly as she started to remember everything. Her head was too foggy for her to cry; for that she was glad. She felt as if she’d exploded. It was as if someone had come along and found all the pieces and swept them together, leaving a pile of re-broken glass. Her eyes glanced over the horrid scars and stitches covering her forearms. Somehow, she had survived. There were too many questions building up, and it took her a moment to build up the strength to shut them down.

“Dean.” She tried to squeeze his hand and whimpered, her skin tugging and tearing a small bit. He placed a soft cloth over it lightly to catch the drop of blood and smiled at her. She heard a breath and turned her head, her eyes lighting up. “Cas!” Her voice cracked.

“Hello, Shiva.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the sides. He was tired, but more than glad to see her alive.

She knit her eyebrows together and drew in a breath. There was one question she couldn’t quite shut out. “Cas?”

He squinted his eyes slightly and then nodded, understanding her worries. “Yes, you’re on Earth.”

She smiled and slowly moved her fingers to pat Cas’s hand. “Thank you.” She turned back to Dean and studied his face. He looked just the same, if not a little more strung out. His eyes were slightly puffy. All she wanted to do was to hug them; if it weren’t for them, her chances of still existing would be near zero.

Dean leaned closer to her and kissed her quietly. He smelled like leather and warmth with a slight tinge of ammonia and coffee, but the smell of alcohol was missing. His lips tasted strongly of coffee -black, just the way he always drank it. She felt like she could have nearly cried just having the two of them there.

Just as she was about to speak again, she saw a movement outside the door. Sam’s face changed from unreadable to pure joy when he met her gaze. He opened it quickly and walked up behind Dean’s chair. “Sheev. Hey! It’s nice to see you.” 

“Hey, Sam.” She smiled and let a tear escape. The joy she felt surrounded by the three of them overpowered her fear. She swallowed. “I love you guys.”

They all smiled at her. Cas stroked her hand, Dean kissed her other, and Sam moved around behind Dean to kiss her forehead.

Things weren’t perfect and they weren’t going to be. Shiva couldn’t move her arms, Sam only appeared to be anything but drunk off his ass because of the copious and frankly alarming amount of coffee he had consumed, Cas hadn’t been able to sleep more than an hour at a time in weeks, and Dean’s guilt was burning a literal hole in his stomach. Things were falling apart faster than they ever had before. If nothing else, that is why this moment was so peaceful. It was the calm before a storm. For now, the four of them were inseparable. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for keeping with this work! I didn't want to post another chapter until I had started the next one, so I can promise that I'm excited, too!


	4. Saturday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happiness is finally thriving in the Winchester household. Shiva makes incredible progress and she, the boys, and Charlie settle in to watch a movie.

“Dean,” Shiva started. She had been gaining back her strength slowly, still on a large amount of pain medication for the stitches and to keep her calm enough that the doctors believed Dean would easily be able to handle her if she were to go into a rage or episode. This was their first fight since then. Her voice cracked when she tried to raise it, and so her argument came out more hurt than angry, “You’ve never attempted suicide.”

“I didn’t have to, Shiva! When I wanted to die, all I had to do was step outside! Most times, not even that!” Dean’s neck strained as his counter thundered down over his wife. His voice was saturated in anger so fierce that it sounded murderous against the silence of the evening. This was the thing that had slowly risen to his thoughts that long night waiting to see if she’d survive ‘The Collapse.’ That was what they called it now; it was a topic too delicate for conversation just yet. Dean had just broken that rule. Shiva’s frozen, wide-eyed look proved that. Were she able to move much more, she would have winced and pulled her legs in, something she did in defense on bad days.

Instead, she met his eye and attempted to sit up, straining slightly against her stitches. She watched Dean closely, viewing his anger dissipate into disappointment and then regret.

“Sheev,” He looked down at his hands and then back at her. “I’m sorry, I-“

“No.” She cut him off and cleared her throat, her voice gaining back its tone. “You’re right. This past week, I’ve-“

Dean opened his mouth to speak and she shot him a look. 

“Don’t. I have the strength to speak, now… and you need to hear this.” She waited until she knew he wouldn’t interject. “Dean, I haven’t made the past week easy for you. No one has made your life easy. You’ve heard me say it before, and you will hear it again until I know that you believe it. I used to think that maybe it wasn’t that you cared too much but that while the rest of the world dwindled in compassion, it all drained into you. I don’t understand why you chose to care about me.”

Dean reached out for her hand and she let him wrap it around hers. They’d discussed it before; now wasn’t the time to go back into it. 

“I’m only glad that you do. I can’t take back what I did. I can’t just go back and prevent these scars. I tried to hide all of this from you because I didn’t want you to have to worry about one more thing. I realize now that you worried anyway. All of it was wearing you down, too, Dean. I could see it in the way your eyes met Sam’s. You both knew, and I’m sorry for that.” She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. 

She ran her thumb along his hand and drew in a breath, excited and nervous to inform Dean of the new development in her functioning. “The anxiety medication they started me on is working, you know? It’s making things manageable. I feel like I can breathe. I can fight the rest, now.”

Dean’s jaw unclenched and he smiled very briefly. Not everything Shiva encountered was novel to him. Initially, that is what had drawn the two of them together- the fact that each of them knew torture first hand.

“I can… and I _need_ to fight it. I don’t want to die, Dean. That night was the first night I ever really wanted to die. I just didn’t want to live. The last thing I remember before I woke up in the hospital was you telling me to stay with you. At first, I thought it was too late. I thought I was going to die. The worst part of it was that I began to realize that there was some part of me -and believe me, it was small- that wanted to start fighting again. This isn’t some stupid fairytale, Dean. I didn’t stay for you, but I wouldn’t have lived if you hadn’t told me to.”

Dean’s lip quivered as it rose into a smile. There were so many reasons he loved Shiva. She was strong; from the moment he and Sam had found her in that abandoned asylum, she’d been fighting. His fears were calmed; when he worried she’d lost the war, it turned out she had only lost a battle along the way. He remembered what had made him realize he wanted to marry her. When he looked out for everyone else, she was there on his level returning that attention. When he made references, she’d roll her eyes and smile at him.

And then she kissed him. Her warmth was something he had missed rapturously. As he wrapped his arm around her back to support her, his eyes closed. She smelled of lilacs and vanilla. The gunpowder scent was missing for now, and Dean was glad for that. This was the relief they had needed. Even the soft moans she emitted as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along her neck somehow seemed happier than before.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean awoke the next morning to Shiva’s struggled breathing. He knew immediately what to do, sitting up and helping her to do the same. As he tucked the blankets back around her, he made sure she knew he was there. He opened the small yellow pill organizer and collected the ones for the day. He stretched to retrieve a water bottle from beneath the bed and opened it before handing it and the medication over. 

This was their emergency system. It worked quickly and efficiently, taking the least amount of effort on their part. 

He repositioned himself on their bed so that he could face her easily. “What else can I do?”

She opened her eyes and smiled faintly, her breathing returning back to a regular rhythm. “Just stay.”

He held her hand, stroking her palm softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thank you,” she rested her head against the wall and took a deep breath, setting the water bottle aside. 

A few minutes later, the worst had passed. Shiva wrapped her free hand around the back of Dean’s neck, her thumb hooked just beneath his jaw. She kissed him softly and moved to hold him. 

Dean kissed her neck and nuzzled her and then got out of bed. He held his hand out to her and looked over to the bathroom joined to their room.

Shiva laughed as she stood, “You, too?” She pressed a kiss against his shoulder before they headed into the shower together.

He smiled and turned to wrap his arms around her waist and envelop her in warm kisses. It was almost more than he could handle sometimes, having her happy and safe and there. 

 

The two were finally clothed and presentable by ten, the earliest start they had seen on such a slow day. Cas had wandered into the kitchen a few minutes after they did. His hair was well groomed although he had not yet changed into day clothes. 

“Morning, Cas,” Shiva smiled over at him as Dean started both the coffee maker and the tea kettle.

“Hello, Shiva. Dean,” He smiled at Dean as he turned around.

“Powdered donuts?” She half asked, half stated. Dean perked up and Cas’s stomach grumbled audibly. “Alright, I’ll take that as a yes. Give me about forty-five minutes.”

“Ah, man. Cas, you haven’t had her donuts. I swear, if burgers didn’t exist, I’d eat these all day and night.”

“Yes, which is exactly why you can’t make them.” Shiva poured steaming water into her’s and Cas’s mugs and set a timer. “Four minutes?” She called over her shoulder.

“Yes, please.” Cas smiled and settled in at the breakfast counter, munching on grapes. “So what’s this about Dean not being able to cook? I have been informed otherwise.”

Dean laughed and pulled out flour and sugar from the cabinets, “Yea, everything but these, apparently.”

“Yea, that’s because you tried to make them in a microwave, Dean.” Shiva rolled her eyes and smiled at Cas who knit his eyebrows together, emitting a small chuckle. “Salt?”

“Thought it would be quicker,” Dean shrugged, mock offended while he reached into the pantry for the salt.

“So that’s what happened to it,” Sam walked into the kitchen in his pajamas, his hair disheveled and puffy. He passed Cas after patting his shoulder and smiled at Dean.

“Shut up,” Dean pushed his shoulder slightly before mixing everything for Shiva. “Morning, Rapunzel.”

“How origina- wait. No.” Sam’s eyes lit up as they panned over the ingredients covering the counter.

“Yes,” Shiva smiled up at him and then turned to Cas. “Hey, do you mind helping me put these up?”  
Cas stood and began to return the heavier containers to their places. “This Rapunzel. Who is he?”

Dean laughed down at the mixture and waited for Shiva to crack an egg into it before finishing the stirring, “Dude, you don’t know Rapun…” He looked up to catch Sam’s disapproving look and coughed, restarting his response. “Alright, well first of all, it’s not a dude.”

“Do we own the movie?” Shiva put out her hand to stop Dean’s stirring and began to transfer the mix into the small baking pans.

“We own two movies. The rest are pornos.” Sam shot another look at Dean who was already laughing, pouring a mug of coffee before removing the tea bags from their mugs.

“There’s probably a version in there,” He smiled at Shiva who mirrored Sam’s look.

“Dean, we are not watching porn over breakfast. Besides, you can’t introduce someone to a fairytale through porn. It’s just… Weird.”

Cas turned off the timer and poured milk and honey into the tea, resting his hip against the counter next to Dean as they watched Shiva.

“We could always stream Tangled.”

“On it,” Sam sat his coffee down and pulled open the laptop, starting a search.

Just after Shiva got the donuts in the oven, her phone began to ring. “Oh, Hedwig’s Theme! That means it’s Charlie!” She jogged over to her phone and put it on speaker. “Charlie!!!”

“Shiva!!”

“What’s up?” Shiva began wiping down the counter after handing her phone to Dean.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to get together or something. It’s been a while.”

“It has. Do you want to come for breakfast?”

“She’s making her specialty.” Dean moved away from the sink so Shiva could wash off the cloth and exchanged a smile with her.

“Oh, hi, Dean! And no way, really?! Uhm, sure. I can be over in fifteen?”

“Sounds great. Oh, hey, one other thing. Do you own Tangled?” Shiva rested her head on Dean’s shoulder, watching the timer on the oven.

“Well, of course! I’ll bring it along!”

“Thanks, Charlie. See you in a bit. Love you!” Shiva moved to grab her tea and sip at it. 

“Love you, too! Okay, I’m going to hang up now.” There was some rustling as Charlie was already getting ready to leave before she hung up.

“Of course there is,” Sam sighed and shut the laptop.

“What?” Dean moved to set the napkins out in the living room.

“There’s a porno version of Tangled.”

Surprisingly, Castiel was the first to erupt into laughter.

 

By the time Charlie arrived, Shiva had enlisted the boys to help her with the actual buttering and powdering process and had almost finished everything. She came in dressed in a Tangled shirt and some pajama pants and hugged everyone carefully, moving around the powder.

Shiva hugged her around the neck before handing her a mug of tea. “It’s like Christmas.”

“It is! Happy Christmas, Shiva!” Charlie said in her best English accent.

“I love you so much, Charlie, oh my goodness.” 

Charlie caught Cas’s confused glance and exchanged a look with Shiva before walking into the living room to set down the DVD and chocolate almond milk she had brought. “Have you really not read the books or seen the movie?”

“Which ones?” Cas washed his hands and grabbed plastic cups from the cupboard. 

“Oh, Cas. You poor thing. Alright, the five of us are having a Harry Potter marathon after you read the books.”

Shiva lit up as she arranged the donuts on a serving platter and transferred them into the living room. Everyone piled in, counting out their share of mini donuts and settling back onto the three-sided couch. 

Once everyone had finished eating and involved themselves in the movie, Shiva rested her head on Charlie’s shoulder, holding Dean’s hand with her free hand. On the opposite side of Charlie was Cas who was curled up with a pillow, his chin resting on his hand. On the opposite side of Dean, Sam took up one side of the couch with his legs stretched out over it, laughing quietly to himself about how much more Dean looked like Rapunzel than he did (that is, until he realized he looked more like Flynn which was not a pairing he necessarily wanted to ever consider).

It was something none of them but Shiva had experienced: the typical Saturday morning. It didn’t matter that it had taken them over twenty years to experience it; it was still just as important and wonderful - possibly even magical.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm sorry this chapter took so long. I had GISHWHES and then a bout of depression, but I'm back! I have the next chapter planned, so fingers crossed that I'll get that done on the way to college! As always, feel free to leave comments or kudos. Both are highly appreciated.


End file.
